


the trouble with attachment

by behradtarazi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Canon Related, Clone Wars, Duelling, Dysfunctional Family, Family Dynamics, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, HONESTLY YEAH, Rael Could Kick Dooku's Ass And That's That On That, The Author Regrets Everything, anyways. read master & apprentice and i was like 'hm. i love them', canon is my bitch fuck off, idk what else to tag this as, im rlly only hurting myself w this huh, it's like.....pre prequels and then during tcw, mostly??? technically canon never told me that these things didn't happen, starts out sweet then gets sad asap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behradtarazi/pseuds/behradtarazi
Summary: “I am sorry, my old apprentice.”“Oh, shut...shut up. I was never your apprentice. I was your son.”ORThree times Rael let Dooku go, and one time Dooku didn’t.
Relationships: Rael Averross & Dooku
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	the trouble with attachment

**I.**

Rael has been a Jedi Knight for a year and a half now. 

Everyone agrees that he’s a credit to Dooku’s skill as a teacher, and likely to make the rank of Master sooner than most. It might be out of the ordinary, but he’s always been talented - unorthodox, but talented. The two of them still work together like a well-oiled machine, seemingly managing to be the closest of comrades without ever crossing a line and getting attached, even with Rael’s devil-may-care attitude towards the Code. Of course, bonds between Masters and Padawans are almost always complicated; there’s more beneath the surface than any good Jedi would care to reveal.

There are hints of that, sometimes, with Rael and Dooku. Always behind closed doors, never too blatant, cautious little signs that maybe Dooku considers Rael more family than coworker, that maybe Rael considers Dooku more father than trainer. 

But they’re both good liars. They’re both good liars, and so Dooku visits Rael while he works on his ship, and Rael drops in to joke about Dooku’s lightsaber form, and it doesn’t raise a single concern. Neither of them question it, either. They’re both good liars. They’re even good at lying to themselves.

Until it gets a little bit harder to.

You don’t ask your old Padawan for permission to take on a new one. 

It’s not expressly banned or anything of the sort, it’s simply never done. Why would they? Masters must train the next generation. They must let go of their old pupils. No attachments. That’s the way it is.

And that’s why it takes Rael so long to understand Dooku’s meaning when he slowly starts to mention Padawans to him, subtle and hinting. He cocks his head and watches his former Master when they finish a round of sparring, a slight frown on his face.

“Does something trouble you, Rael?” asks Dooku, attempting to appear inscrutable as always.

Bluntly, arms crossed, Rael replies, “Are you tryin’ ta get me to take on a Padawan? ‘Cause tha’s what it’s sounding like, and you know I’ve never wanted to teach.”

The surprise on Dooku’s face would’ve made Rael laugh at any other time. “I - no, I am not. In fact, I have been considering taking on another Padawan myself. I was simply wondering…”

“...if I would be okay with that?”

Dooku doesn’t respond, and that makes Rael grin, bright and wide and even troublemaking. “Aw, Dooku. You’re turning into a sap, huh?” At Dooku’s glare, Rael just shakes his head fondly and continues. “‘Course you can. Can’t wait to meet the kid. They’re pretty lucky; they’re gonna get the best Master in the Order.”

Dooku smiles slightly, and Rael claps him on the shoulder, and they pray to the Force no one saw.

**II.**

Rael finds Dooku on the steps of the Jedi Temple.

He had left Pijal the moment Jocasta had called him, taken the nearest ship and jumped into lightspeed alone, unhesitating. This might’ve been the only thing that could pull him away from the little princess Fanry, even for a moment. 

Dooku is leaving the Order.

It’s not too surprising, not really; Dooku had always been a dissident, had raised Rael to be one, too. But still, he - he’s not sure. He never thought Dooku would leave Jocasta, maybe, never thought he would leave him and Jocasta and Qui Gon.

They both seem to freeze as they lock eyes, showing a lack of confidence that’s uncharacteristic for both of them.

“Dooku.”

“Rael.

“So - you’re goin’, then.”

“Yes. Yes, I am. You must come and visit me on Serenno, sometime.”

“Master…” Rael almost chokes on his own words, stumbling for the right thing to say, usual charm gone. “C’mon, you know I can’t. Not after - I’m busy on Pijal. And the Council would be up my ass about it. Don’t have much good will left with them.”

“I’ll come to you, then.”

“Yeah?”  
“I’ll come to you.”

Forcing a smile onto his face, Rael pulls Dooku into a hug for the first time, loose but unmoving as Dooku tenses, then slowly hugs back, glad that his face was hidden from his former apprentice, emotions for once hard to control. They stand there for a long few moments, and the hum of Coruscant around them almost seems dimmed, unimportant compared to every single unsaid thing.

Rael is the one who pulls back, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking a step away from him, like the physical distance will do something to make it easier. “Well, go on, then. You got a planet to rule, don’t ya? The finery’ll suit you well.”

“I suppose it will.”

**III.**

Rael has done everything he can to avoid this.

He’s one of the Order’s best duelists, best generals, and he has been spending the entirety of the Clone War trying to avoid coming face to face with Dooku. Campaign after campaign, his luck has held out, but he knows by now that luck isn’t everything. Luck doesn’t last forever. Nothing does. The war has made that all too clear.

And so: they meet.

And so: they draw their sabers.

And so: they don’t say a word.

It’d be too easy, almost, to pretend that this isn’t happening, not like this. To pretend that they’re just sparring the way they used to, that they’re back at the Temple, back _home_ , and Rael is a Padawan again. To pretend that times are simpler, and they haven’t hurt each other, and Dooku’s rejected offer to teach Rael the ways of the Dark Side isn’t lingering over them like a goddamn storm cloud.

Dooku is a good fighter. 

Rael is better. 

The duel is over in minutes, Dooku unarmed, Rael with his blade at his former Master’s neck. It would be easy to end this now. It would be the right thing to do, to arrest him now or just kill him, save Jedi lives and bring the end of the war so much closer. So much closer. And the Jedi Council could never even think that Rael wasn’t one of them again.

Instead.

Instead, Rael shakes his head, extinguishes his lightsaber, and walks away.

The Council will never forgive him for this.

He isn’t sure he gives a damn.

**I.**

Rael didn’t think it would end like this. 

He’d never been sure how he would die, really, but he’s always figured there would be some nobility to it, some drama. Caught up in an explosion, or riddled with blasterfire. Somehow triumphant, even in death.

The realistic part of him had always thought he’d drink himself into an early grave, but that’s just one of the consequences of living the way he does. If you can call it living. Surviving. He’s just surviving.

But no, Rael had never thought it would end like this.

The fight makes sense: he meets Dooku again on the battlefield, and blue and red light clash once more, two killers who know each other too well, and who know exactly how this ends, the same way it did before. There’s no scenario where Dooku beats Rael. There shouldn’t be any scenario where he beats him.

Rael disarms Dooku, again, and extinguishes his lightsaber, again. That should be that. That should be that.

It isn’t.

Rael feels a sharp stab of pain in his stomach, and he looks down in time to see Dooku pull out the knife and plunge it back into his chest, eyes cold and unreadable like they have _never_ been to Rael as he watches his former Padawan try to put pressure on his wounds, stumble, and fall. Fall, right onto the unforgiving metal of the ship floor, something like surprise on his face. Something like disbelief.

Still, there’s no hatred there. There’s no hatred there, even as Dooku remembers his spitfire temper and expects insults, some dying curse. Nothing comes. Not a word. Just Rael gasping for air, chest shuddering, hands already stained red.

Dooku hadn’t planned to, but he kneels down beside him, props his head up with some last reserve of tenderness the Dark hasn’t yet stolen out of him, and looks...not remorseful. But guilty. It’s hard to remember the last time he felt guilt like this.

“I am sorry, my old apprentice.” The words come unbidden, unexpected, torn from him almost, a final, desperate attempt at a kindness. An apology. The type he had never given Rael for everything. For the war, for not being there after what happened to Nim, for a thousand small mistakes. For everything.

“Oh, shut...shut up,” Rael forces out, and there it is, that anger Dooku has always known is inside Rael, that repressed fury. “I was never your apprentice. I was your _son_.”

It hurts. The thought hurts. It’s true, and so it hurts, hurts both of them, a double ended blade that Rael is too far gone to care about now. He’s too far gone to care about much now. Not the battle, not the war, not the Jedi. 

Just making sure that Dooku doesn’t forget what he did so easily. Just making sure that Dooku can’t sleep at night.

Rael’s grip on Dooku’s arm is tight for a dying man, nails digging into his skin.

“Tell me,” he says, or struggles to say, words barely coherent, “tell me how you’re gonna fucking _live_ with this. Tell me...you don’ think your time’s damn near up anyways. I _dare you_.”

“Rael... _Rael_.”

No answer.

No answer.

There’s so much left to say.


End file.
